Original Scan of Sparky the Golden Retriever Wrapped in Bath Towels

Sparky the Golden Retriever, after his bath. He is all nice and clean and ready to say Hi to Latte, Mel, Toby and Montana. He likes cats. We used to have one named Karma and one named Calico. He was very good with them, and they napped together.

Actually, Sparky had kind of a sad beginning in life, well, mixed really. He was the pet of a boy that had Cystic Fibrosis (sometimes understood as being said 65 roses). He and the dog, Sparky, doted on one another, and about a year or 18 months later, the boy died of his disease. I'm sure Sparky was crestfallen and of course the parents of the boy. Now my way of thinking would have been to keep the sweet dog around, but their way was to remove the bad memories. At least that is what we were told. A family in their church group took him in, but basically he just sat in a muddy backyard all day, and the kids lost interest, and mom or mom and dad were overwhelmed with other stuff. They put an ad in the paper for a free Golden Retriever. I had my doubts, figuring if he were free, he probably would be mixed breed with something not flattering, or some glaring fault. I was so wrong. I took pictures of our country home to give some scope to where he would be living if they chose us. He greeted us at their door, with them too, of course, and wiggled friendliness all over. He took to me and my husband and my children, instantly, and there was no going back. He was "our dog". We let him be a housedog lots of the time too, and from the moment he saw our home and got to be with us in it, I don't think he ever looked back at any other home or family. He already knew sit, stay, and heel, from the boy that had him. We trained him not to hurt the chickens we had for awhile, by saying, "Don't Hurt the Chickens" in a serious voice. He responded to that, and when we moved to another country place that came with all kinds of free animals on it, it didn't seem to matter whether he was bothering a horse, or a guinea hen, or duck, we would say, "Don't Hurt the Chickens" and he would stop pestering.
That should quality for "My Story" "Pictures with Stories" and "My Life As" someone who has had many dogs and others pets, and liked to take pictures of them.

For a long time now, I have not been able to remember who actually took this picture, me or my daughter. My daughter, Jennifer, tells me that she is absolutely positive that she took the picture. So, on June 22, 2007, I am hearby giving her credit for the photograph.